WordPress Premium – Questions

Hi!

Who out there has used, or is currently using, the WordPress Premium plan?

If so, I have a few questions. I’m considering making the jump.

  1. “ability to monetize your site with ads” -How does this work?
  2. How many views equals “X” for revenue?
  3. If you transition, do your previous posts come along, or are they wiped out?
  4. Additional thoughts / pros vs cons.

Thank you! I’ll ‘see’ you in the comments section.

Matt

On Keeping Your Children Safe

One of my big fears happened this morning. Gavin fell down the stairs. They are wooden with no carpet to help absorb a fall. There are fourteen steps and Gavin was on step seven. Directly in the middle.

I cringe whenever he walks up, or down, with socks on. The house, and stairs, are new. The oak stairs are stained dark brown, and are slippery. I think about him falling down the stairs in the middle of the night. Among other fears. Megan and I talk often about how best to keep him safe. He’s not yet four and, in our opinion, should not be walking up and down these stairs alone. He was not alone. I was in front of him.

It was early morning. We had just finished brushing our teeth. Gavin held his large T-Rex in his right hand as I stood in front of him and took my first step down. I watched over my should as he grabbed for the railing, held it and started down behind me.

I usually pace him, step for step, until we reach the bottom. Half way down, Gavin stopped and complained about his sock on his right foot. Stating it had something in it. I was now at the bottom looking up at him and gauging a possible fall. I do this with everything when it comes to his safety. I have been called a helicopter parent behind my back because most people are cowards and are afraid to say what they mean while in person. That is not me. I say exactly what I mean and I write exactly that way too. I will happily continue to be a safety aware parent until Gavin no longer needs me to be.

I asked Gavin to sit, trying to trust him more, and to take his sock off. Gavin did this. He then tossed his sock toward me. I had told him that I would fix the sock once he was downstairs. I asked him to stand and hold onto the railing and to be careful because he still had one sock on and that it was slippery on the wooden stairs. He stood, reached for the railing, and slipped. I immediately started up the stairs calculating when I could intercept his fall. Both of my hands were full with sea creatures.

He lost any grip he may have had on the railing and did a split with the slippery sock leading the way. He bounced when he landed, on his side, and the compression expelled his body into the air. I rushed and caught Gavin, with both arms just as his head was about to hit a wooden step. One under his neck and the other under his knees. He looked at me with a stunned expression and started to cry. I nearly did too. I held him like a baby and walked to the couch while asking him if he was OK. He stopped crying somewhat quickly and said that he was. I asked him if it scared him that he fell down the stairs? He nodded yes, but later told me he wasn’t scared.

I was. I still am. I shook for an hour. I had a hard time dropping him off at his school/daycare. I didn’t want to let him out of my sight.

It can happen so quickly. A life changing event. So damn quickly.

I hope you are all as well as possible today.

Matt

I’m a terrible comment maker

Howdy! I’m awful at finding time to comment on your blog. Pretty much for all of you. I suck. I know that I do, so at least there is that.

A few days ago I was shoveling our driveway. The storm was an ice/sleet/snow mix. It was eight degrees outside and I needed to get the driveway cleared before it was too late. For my snowy friends out there, you know what happens when it’s too late. Having a driveway of solid ice isn’t exactly what I want. However, I stopped to read a blog post written by a writer who was wondering why more people weren’t commented on their posts.

I really wanted to comment, but I was literally outside shoveling. It was terribly cold and windy. Yet, I did read your post. And you write well and Please don’t think that you don’t. I wonder if it’s like this for a lot of us. I have so little time to comment, that I find I don’t. I won’t sit here and make a profound statement proclaiming to become a frequent comment creator, because that would be a lie. I like honesty. I’ll do the best I can. I read as many posts as I can. Even in snow storms while my nose is dripping and my hands are shaking. I like to read. Hence my little saying, Read on. It’s good for the brain.

I’m thankful I didn’t write, “Comment on. It’s good for the brain.” My brain would have shriveled and turned off.

For those of you who are gifted at commented, I cherish you. I have seen many of you. I don’t have that gift.

Cheers everyone.

Matt

Little Sticks – A Poem

I like words. We all have them.
Yet, we use them so differently.
Some flow beautifully from mouths,
while others need to write them.
They can be stretched, measured for intent,
delivered with impact, or even severity, and all
each of them are, are tiny little sticks. Sticks bent,
and curled; all lined up nicely to make meaning of
our thoughts so others might also engage in our curiosities.

-M. Taggart

 

Thank you for reading and being with me. I’m thankful for all of my peers on this platform.

About:
https://mtaggartwriter.wordpress.com/m-taggart/

 

Odd Walking Thoughts

She trampled and ran along feeling tall ferns; green and narrow at the tops, sending her palms into realization of being. She smiled as she ran. Her mother asked that she not run to the brook, but that’s where she was going and where she was now. “Go on little thought and be what you were before.” She said to the babbling water. A frog hopped near and asked, “What was it, it was not now, before?” She picked a yellow flower, placed it near the frog to enjoy, turned and said her hello while walking away.

-M. Taggart

Are you sure you locked the door?

I’m doing laundry and don’t remember what I found
while checking the pockets of my jeans
I checked again and this time I found nothing
I’m thinking I may have found nothing the first time
But, being unable to trust my first time checking
I can’t fully trust my second time knowing that I didn’t
know much about the first, So hell with it
I check a third time and now I’m confident that the second
time was spot on. Nothing in the pockets.
I think.

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts

Solemnly the boy walked alone wanting to know how memories could sing. He passed himself, his grave, his smile, his teeth grinding. Is it not nice following what we once never knew. A tree shivered off itself to become more, having seen the boy. ‘Wish to know about memories?’ asked the tree. ‘I do.’ replied the boy. ‘Come here. I’ve just ruined myself for you.’ the boy walked on.

-M. Taggart
copyright 2018